Starcraft: Forging Wings of Liberty
by BoredZero
Summary: In the year 2502 in the cantina of the Hyperion, Jim Raynor decides if he's going to save Kerrigan from the clutches of the Zerg, he's going to need better guns. But what do you do when everything you can get your hands on seems weak? Make a new one.
1. Prologue: Part One

Disclaimer: I do not own Starcraft, nor anything else from any other shows/games/books I may bring into the fold in the course of writing this story.

Prologue: Prelude to The Flight

Onboard the Hyperion, 2502...

Pure, unbridled fury. That was the only way to describe the contempt Jim Raynor had for Acturus Mengsk. Nothing less than total annihilation of the man, his memory, his image, and his influence would do. It was after all, built on the blood of soldiers that Raynor had once fought with.

And Kerrigan.

He growled, knocking back another shot before hurling the glass at the wall, impacting a picture of Acturus that had been pinned to the wall with deadly accuracy before grabbing another.

Bullets were too good for the man. Acturus deserved nothing less than the bloodiest possible death Raynor could give him, as payment for his sins against the Koprulu Sector.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his rage down. Although it was empty onboard the _Hyperion_'s canteen, it wouldn't do to lose himself in his fury. He'd simply have to come up with a better way of killing Acturus.

But how, was the question.

The door hissed open and closed, the sound of heavy footsteps nearing the bar.

"Jimmy."

It was Swann. A former miner, he once lead a revolt against another corrupt miner who had been bribing officials to levy taxes so as to drive competition out of business. The revolt was a dismal failure – although he survived because Raynor and his men had picked up his distress call. Ever since then, he worked for him as the Hyperion's chief engineer.

"Swann." Raynor grunted. "Grab a drink and sit down."

"Don't mind if I do, Cowboy." Swann replied thankfully, reaching over the bar to grab a beer. He noticed the pile of glass beneath the picture of Acturus Mengsk, and chuckled.

"Threw another one?" Swann asked.

"Well, he's not here – so I can't exactly throw it at _him_." He snorted, knocking back another drink. "This is pathetic." He said finally.

"What is?"

"Our guns and armor. What else?" Raynor rolled his eyes. In all of his battles against the Zerg, nothing was more relatively useless than the CMC line of armor used to equip all of their ground troops. In terms of protection, they offered next to none against the Zerg up close – and their own weapons didn't do much either. It took a significant volume of fire to do any kind of significant damage to the Zerg – something they couldn't afford with a crew of only four hundred people. "The rushing numbers tactic might have worked in the past, but we don't have the manpower for that. We need to hit hard, hit fast and bug out before the enemy can react. Or barring that, we need to be able to hit hard and tank harder." Raynor grumbled.

Swann nodded in agreement. "Yeah well, the CMC line's the only decent powered armor suit out here that _works_. It's easier to come up with modifications to something we already know than it is to come up with a better version that'll take a lot of R&D to make." Swann shrugged. "But if you want some heavier firepower, _that_ I can do. Question is – what kind?"

Raynor paused mid-drink and thought about it. Their 8mm C-14 gauss rifles _did _have some good points such as ammo capacity and rate of fire, but what it had in fire volume it lacked severely in firepower. Of course, they could easily fix that by using weapons that have a higher rate of fire, but that would mean they'd chew through rounds faster.

"What I need is a better gun." Raynor muttered. "Or better bullets. Think you can make a new bullet for the C-14 rifles?"

Swann rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, designing a new round's easier than making a new gun – but the question is what do you want the new bullet to do?"

Raynor paused. While their immediate enemy was the Dominion, he had absolutely no doubts that they'd probably have to use the same ammo to fight Zerg – which meant they needed to do more than just fly fast and make holes.

"What if the new round flattened upon impact?" Raynor suggested.

Swann hmm'ed. "Let me run some tests and get back to you on that. What about the armor?"

Raynor frowned. "I thought you said building a new one would be too difficult."

Swann shrugged. "Depends on what you want done – as long as we can still use the CMC series for a basis. We've only got marine suits and C-14's right now – but I'll try to get my hands on some of the other nicer gear. Until then, there's not much we can do."

"Could you add a jump jet pack to the marine armor? We could use the added mobility."

Swann raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Can't believe I never thought about that. I'll get right on it – that should surprise those Dommie bastards. Ha!" He laughed, walking out of the canteen.

Raynor turned to the viewports, watching as warp space blew past. He poured himself another drink, trying to bring his anger under control with a deep, calming breath.

He looked down at the amber liquid in the glass, and finally decided enough was enough. Knocking back one last drink, he replaced the bottle, washed the glass and left to go to his quarters.

Three days later, Swann requested he visit him down in his workshop.

He walked through the door just in time to see Swann test firing a new round – which, instead of flattening against the armor plate the mannequin wore, it went through the armor and then exploded inside the mannequin, leaving a fairly big gaping hole behind.

"Ha! Now _that's_ what I call firepower!" Swann said triumphantly, opening the test firing chamber.

"What the hell was that?" Raynor asked, surprised.

"That, is the new round I came up with. You see, I tried making a round like you suggested – one that would flatten upon impact, thus transferring the kinetic energy into the target more efficiently. Unfortunately, against the CMC series – their performance is well...shit. They work well against unarmored targets, but against armored targets with padding, it's pretty much useless." Swann said excitedly. "So, I asked myself – what's the best way to add some extra oomph?"

"You turned it into an armor piercing grenade?" Raynor asked.

Swann paused, then nodded. "Essentially, yeah. I borrowed the idea from the C-10 canister rifles the Ghosts used to use. What do you think?"

Raynor examined the hole in the mannequin and the armor plating – which upon closer inspection turned out to be two armored chest pieces from the CMC 400 on top of each other with as little gap between them. He whistled at the damage.

"How soon can you make more?" Raynor asked.

Swann frowned. "That's the downside. Explosives, we have – but the usual metals we use for the AP tip weren't cutting it either. The stuff I used for that tip I need to make – and that's going to take some time." Swann warned.

"Hold up. You _made_ a metal for the tips?" Raynor asked.

"Not so much made, so much as I used an old formula of mine from my mining days. Never had a name for it – but this stuff made the best hand tools you a miner ever needed. It's a lot harder and more durable than this crappy neo-steel everyone uses, and on the upside, just a tad lighter. You get the materials I need to make it, and you'll have your new bullets. In the meantime, best I can do is to make these new rounds with our old stuff."

Raynor nodded, and turned back to Swann. It was then when he noticed that Swann's eyes had huge bags underneath them.

"Swann...when was the last time you slept?" He asked curiously.

Swann paused, and then smiled sheepishly. "Two days ago. I'll finish up here, then rack out Chief."

"Make sure you do." Raynor nodded. "And keep up the good work." He said, patting Swann on the shoulder on his way out.

He made his way to the bridge.

"Commander." Horner greeted him. "Swann wanted to see you earlier."

"I saw him. He's got some nifty new bullets for ours guns." Raynor grinned. "Should make our C-14's more effective overall."

Horner snorted. "About time. I was getting tired of having to rely on sheer volume of fire to kill things."

Raynor nodded in agreement. "Hopefully, he'll be able to work his magic on the CMC 400's as well."

"_More _ideas?" Horner repeated. "If you want us to start doing more R&D, we'll have to pick up more engineers and scientists."

"I know." Raynor nodded. "Some of the stuff I want done includes adding jump jets to existing Marine armor and toughening up all of our armor across the board.

Horner laughed. "What next? Jumping into battle with chainsaws and pipes?"

Raynor paused. Terran military doctrine as a whole relied relied entirely on ranged weapons. The only thing they had that could qualify as a close quarter weapon were the flamethrowers Firebats used.

"Actually..." Raynor started. "That gives me an idea."

Horner groaned. "You're not seriously considering it, are you?"

Raynor shrugged. "Think about it. If Swann can get jump jets on the Marine armor, we'll be able to get real close and personal. Besides – it'll help us save on ammo."

Horner facepalmed. "I should've kept my mouth shut."

They still had a week's worth of travel to do before they reached any of their destinations, where Raynor hoped to hide for a while from both Zerg and the Dominion in order to further refine these upgrades he wanted to make to the Hyperion.

He frowned however, as he watched his men train, moving from simulated cover to simulated cover, firing at enemy targets that were also moving at high speed. It wasn't enough. Being able to shoot better than Dominion forces was one thing, but if the weapons they were using just didn't cut it, it didn't matter.

And Swann couldn't keep pulling 72 hour nights – not with all of the improvements he wanted to be made.

He needed more researchers, scientists and engineers. He needed resources which he didn't have. And he needed heavy manufacturing – which they could do, but only after they built a planetary base.

Most the planets in the area however, belonged to the Dominion, which didn't help them at all. There was the Umojan Protectorate who were neutral – but he wasn't sure if he could trust them, having never met them before. And then there were the Zerg infested worlds – where he could hide, but in doing so, risk the lives of everyone with him and the ship.

Or Chau Sara. It had been "purified" by the Protoss, but that didn't mean they couldn't use it. They'd just have to be really, really careful since it was essentially, a hell planet.

When he brought it up with his officers, none of them could agree on a planet, except for Chau Sara, which they _all_ agreed would be suicide. After days of debate and countless arguments, they finally set a course for the planet Umoja, upon which resided the Umojan Protectorate. Known throughout the sector for housing anti-Dominion people and its cutting edge tech, it was the perfect place to hide and research new methods of increasing their ability to wage war against the Zerg and Terran.

It would also be the best place to try and recruit more people to help him fight the Dominion.

Horner nodded, and the officers dispersed. They'd be setting a course for the Umojan Protectorate – known for their tech and hatred of the Dominion. Even they would think twice before attacking the Umojan Protectorate – what it lacked in size, it made up for in technology. The other planets – they could visit for materials and resources.

He paused mid-step to the bridge. Why the hell _do_ they only use Vespene and minerals? Turning around, he started making his way to Egon's lab. With R&D slowly becoming a priority, it was only stupid to leave the lab unstaffed. Besides – Egon might be weird, but perhaps that weirdness was what they needed. But first, sleep.

One week later...

"Egon. I got a question for you." He said, stepping into the lab. Large test tubes sat on the walls, some empty – some pulsating with life.

"Whaddya need, boss?"

"I want you to figure out why we only use minerals and gas for everything." Raynor requested.

Egon rubbed his chin thoughfully. "Hmm. Well, the simplest answer for all that would be that both are in extreme abundance in the Koprulu Sector. Here, take a look at this." Egon said, moving over to a terminal, bringing up a holographic screen. "Almost every planet in this sector has mineral crystals running through the entire surface of the planet – including the ones that have been glassed by the Protoss." Egon said, pausing. "Same goes for Vespene Gas. We use them for everything – metal, plastic, that sort of thing."

Raynor nodded. It seemed plausible enough. "Any chance we can grow these minerals for ourselves?"

"There's more. These crystals for the most part, are all melted down for materials usage. Some of them contain additional content, depending on the planet and strain of mineral." Egonn continued.

"So...can you grow them?"

Egonn shrugged. "I don't know. I'd need a few samples to study."

"You got them." Raynor nodded. "See if you can find anything about growing our own minerals so we can use it for our own R&D purposes. And if you can, see if you can work with Swann and find some way of refining them so we can get some better alloys out of it."

"On the job, boss. By the way – where are we headed?"

Before Raynor could respond, Horner's voice came over the PA

"_Commander Raynor to the bridge. I repeat, Commander Raynor to the bridge." _

He groaned. "What now?"

He ran to the bridge.

"Commander – we've picked up a distress beacon from Meinhoff." Horner reported dutifully. Looks like the planet's being raided by pirates."

Raynor raised his eyebrow. "Meinhoff? That's Swann's old planet. Put it through."

Horner nodded, bringing up the message. It was text only – detailing the planetary defense forces fall to the pirates and their subsequent attacks groundside to the remaining colonists. If the message was to be believed, the people who sent it were probably now dead – or worse.

"How close are we to Meinhoff?" Raynor asked.

Horner consulted navigation. "Not far. We could be there in a matter of hours."

Raynor nodded. "Let's go, then."

"Aye, aye, Commander. Navigation, set course for Meinhoff at best possible speed. XO, set alert level one." Horner ordered as Raynor left the bridge. He went back down to Swann.

"So, what's the fuss, Cowboy?"

"Pirates are attacking Meinhoff." Raynor said simply. "What do you have that's ready?"

"Not much." Swann sighed, wiping his brow. "Pirates? Shit, I feel bad for them." He said, walking over to a table. "Me and the boys have been workin' around the clock to get these finished." Swann said proudly hefting up one of the guns. "Meet the XC-14B – your new rifle. Firing an 8mm armor piercing high explosive round guaranteed to kill most ground troops with just one shot. Same range, slower firing rate and smaller ammo capacity – but with this thing, you won't need all that extra ammo. There's enough here for twelve marines."

Raynor frowned. "That's it?"

Swann scoffed. "That's it? Chief, with twelve of these rifles and twelve thousand rounds of this new ammo, you'll literally tear through those pirates. These things will go through their armor and explode on the inside. Hell, you can even use these things to take out light armor. You only need one for most infantry – given that the CMC suit's armor is really, really shitty."

"Alright, Swann. I'll take your word for it. How soon can you issue them?"

"As soon as you want." Swann shrugged.

Raynor nodded. "Alright. I'll get eleven of my best men and we'll head planetside."

"Remember – you only need one or two. Make sure you boys don't waste all of it because at the moment, our supply's pretty small."

"Got it." Raynor nodded. "Thanks, Swann."

"Don't thank me yet. We still haven't field tested these things." Swann replied.

"Then how do you know just one is enough?" Raynor asked.

Swann pointed to the end of the firing range, where parts of a CMC-400 series suit could be seen. From the big gaping hole in the front chest plate, it looked like an explosion had gone off _inside_ the suit.

Raynor whistled. "Damn."

"Yeah. Damn." Swann repeated, nodding.

Two hours later...

The _Hyperion_ dropped out of warp some distance away from Meinhoff, weapons primed and ready to go, slowly closing the distance to Meinhoff. Over the planet, sensors detected a small fleet comprised primarily of armed cargo transports, several frigates and what looked like really junked up Wraiths.

Against the Hyperion, they were no match.

The fleet and its fighters were quickly destroyed over orbit – having very little in the way of heavy anti-ship weapons. Their Wraiths, although dangerous from afar had been recycled and repaired so many times they hardly functioned with the same performance they originally had, making them easy prey for the Hyperion's laser batteries.

That didn't mean they got all of them, however. Most of the remaining pirate crews were headed towards the planet's surface in drop pods.

"Well, that didn't take long." Raynor commented, watching from the bridge in this old Marine armor. It was a worn grey, and in it, he stood nearly two feet taller than Horner.

"They were poorly armed pirates." Horner shrugged. "We've located their drop pod landing zones – and it looks like they were headed towards the planetary HQ. If they take that, Meinhoff's theirs."

"Well then, we'll just have to stop 'em dead in their tracks. Marines! Load up – we're goin' planetside." He ordered, leaving the bridge. In the hangar bay, Swann was waiting for them with their gear and issued them each a C-150 sidearm, three fragmentation grenades each, a XC-14B rifle and 1000 rounds each of the new "bolt" rounds. (They were named such because once the enemy figured out what you were using against them, it would inspire such fear into the enemy that it would cause them to "bolt" from the battlefield.)

"_Commander, whatever was keeping the colonists quiet isn't there anymore. As you suspected, their planetary HQ is indeed under heavy attack. Enemy disposition seems to indicate the only armor you're dealing with are some old Vulture bikes."_

Raynor nodded. "Alright boys, let's move out!"


	2. Prologue: Part Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Starcraft, nor anything else from any other shows/games/books I may bring into the fold in the course of writing this story.

Meanwhile...on Meinhoff, approximately five minutes earlier...

The C-10 Mk VI rifle bucked twice, dropping the two perimeter guards that guarded the back way to the jamming site the scumbag pirates set-up, drowning out any request for aid the colonists made. It was his job to make sure that site fell for good – or at least until he died.

Sweeping the area through the scope, he waited to see if the two deaths would draw any attention. After waiting ten seconds, he nodded to himself and hefted the C-10 from his hiding spot and slowly began making his way up the ramp into the facility itself.

The pirates chose a good spot to set up their jammer, but a very poor defense. Luckily for him, there were no bunkers yet setup in the area, and he'd prefer it to be kept that way. Sneaking up the ramp, he looked around before dragging the bodies out of sight.

'Amateurs.' He thought, scanning the area with his the rifle. He couldn't believe it – they had only set two guards to watch the approaches. Shaking his head, he began digging through the dead pirates' pockets to see if there was anything there he could use to destroy the jamming tower.

Much to his satisfaction, they were each carrying one grenade each. Popping the pins off, he stuffed them into the tower's maintenance panel and slammed it shut before running like hell. The explosion would attract more pirates, and he had to prepare himself for the siege. Grabbing the two C-14's off the dead pirates, he hid behind the wreckage of the tower and prepared for incoming.

With any luck – and sufficient ammo, he'd be able to cause a large enough distraction to take some of the heat off HQ.

Over at planetary HQ...

"Hold the lines, damn it!" The Captain snapped, C-14 rifles and auto-turrets firing an unending stream of lead. The pirates they were fighting had more men than they did, and it was beginning to show. It wasn't that they were taking casualties – so much as they were beginning to run out of supplies and weapons. Their auto-turrets chewed up precious ammunition – but there was nothing they could do but hope for reinforcements, and that soon they'd reach the end of these unending *COCKROACHES*!

But for that to happen first, the jamming tower needed to be taken down.

The Captain paused mid-firing, his armor picking up a very distant *crash* - followed by a concussive force that threw him back several feet.

He shook the ringing from his head, a shiver suddenly going up his spine. The auto-turrets had fell silent, and there were no sounds of gunfire from behind him.

He looked up just in time to stare into the barrel of a pirate's pistol, a sinister grin plastered on his face...

And then suddenly, the chests of him and his three buddies simply _exploded_ – tearing their bodies in half.

He looked around for the shooters, and saw twelve Marines standing there – eleven in standard blue, and one in grey.

The one in grey lifted up his visor, and revealed...

"Raynor!" The Captain shouted. "_You_'_re_ our reinforcements?"

"Yep. Picked up an automated beacon about two hours ago." Raynor explained, helping the man to his feet. "What's the situation here?"

"Bad. All we've got is local militia and a few Marines – they've got Firebats, Marauders, Medics, Marines and Vulture bikes." The Captain explained, looking around. "Is this it?"

"This is it." Raynor nodded. "Now come on – we've got some pirates to purge. There can't be that many left on this planet, and we've already blown their fleet to hell."

The Captain nodded in relief. With the fleet gone, that meant that the pirates had a finite amount of people left.

"This way then, Commander." The Captain gestured, motioning for Raynor to follow him into the planetary HQ.

Raynor nodded. "Right. Secure the perimeter. And just like Swann said – one to a customer."

The marines nodded and took to the defenses – half manning the defensive lines and the other half tending to the wounded.

Inside, people were bustling about from console to console with frantic precision – running from place to place narrowly avoiding other people in their way without slowing down at all. At the heart of it all was the Planetary Overseer who ran the planet in the name of the Kel-Morian Combine, staring into endless banks of data-terminals fed by his Adjutant.

"Governor." The Captain greeted. "Good news – our agent's taken out the jamming tower and reinforcements have arrived."

"Great. From who?" The Overseer asked, flipping through maps.

"Commander Raynor, sir." The Captain said. The Overseer stopped, and turned around to face them. He looked appraisingly at Raynor, before extending a hand.

"Commandor Raynor. I've heard many things about you – most of it bad." The Overseer greeted. "Welcome to Meinhoff's planetary HQ...for as long as we're still here." He added as an afterthought.

Raynor shook the Overseer's hand. "With us here, those pirates are as good as gone. We've already taken care of their fleet – all that's left of them are the ones that made it to the surface."

The Overseer's face brightened slightly. "Is that so? This is most excellent, and in our favor as well. With their jamming tower down and the casualties they've suffered so far – that evens the score a little bit."

"Do we have the location of their bases?" Raynor asked.

The man nodded, bringing up the datafeed. "Their main – and only base lies here, on a plateau a few klicks south of here. There's a back way in – but it's blocked by rubble. The main entrance is heavily guarded by bunkers and Spider Mines – with at least six Vultures patrolling the perimeter. The sides are next to inaccessible and are essentially kill-zones waiting to happen. Even if you could breach the rubble, they are far too narrow and only allow for one person to pass at a time. Luckily, they have nothing in the way of anti-air defenses, but we don't have any dropships."

Raynor smirked. "Well then, all we need to do is drop in from the back and they'll never see us coming."

"You sure you and your marines can tackle all that alone?" The Overseer asked skeptically. "You've only got twelve marines and no medics."

Raynor shrugged. "We're testing some new gear. Your Captain can testify to their effectiveness."

The man turned to the Captain. "Sir, whatever the hell it was, it blew four of those pirates in half."

He turned back to Raynor, who was grinning.

"I don't suppose you could share this with us." The Overseer asked hopefully.

Raynor shrugged. "Let's get rid of these pirates, first."

"Sir! Incoming transmission. It's him."

"Patch him through." He ordered. The tech gave him a thumbs up, the familiar, haunting sound of a C-10 firing filling Raynor's ears.

"This is Command."

_"Command, this is Oxide Two-Zero. Tower's down, plus twenty or so foot-mobiles. Bastards finally retreated back to their base."_

"Confirmed, Oxide Two-Zero. Good work on the tower. How soon can you make it back?"

_"I'm halfway back already – although I could use some medical attention. I took one to the shoulder."_

"Roger Oxide Two-Zero – we'll inform the line. Command out." He turned to the technician. "Inform the defensive line and our medics for Oxide's return."

"Yes, sir!"

Raynor raised an eyebrow. "You have a Ghost?"

The Overseer shook his head. "Commander, if we had a Ghost, the Dominion or the Confederacy would've snatched them up years ago. No, this is simply a...highly skilled individual that specializes in assassination – both long and close range. Thus far, he has been one of our main strategic advantages over these pirates."

"Interesting. I could use someone like him." Raynor grinned.

"Well, as you say – we'll have to wait until the scum's been dealt with." The Overseer reminded him. "I've only a few marines and a handful of volunteers, however."

Raynor shook his head. "My boys will be all we'll need." He said, examining the base. All that was there were a bunch of supply depots, a command center, and some buildings they were using as barracks for their troops. The six Vultures wouldn't be an issue – and they certainly wouldn't be expecting an attack from behind.

"Patch me through to the _Hyperion_." Raynor said.

The Overseer turned to a tech, who then nodded and gave him the thumbs up. A holographic Horner appeared.

"Commander. What do you need?"

"I need a Spec Ops dropship for an assault mission. Preferably with cloak if you've got one." Raynor requested.

"I'll see what I can do. Horner out."

Five minutes later, and the soldier previously known as "Oxide Two-Zero" came hobbling up the front, drenched in blood. He had just enough strength to make it ten feet short of the defensive line before collapsing.

Raynor's marines nodded to each other, two of them breaking forward from the defensive line to grab the fallen man and his C-10 rifle, whilst two others leapt forward of them, XC-14B's sweeping the area for any hostiles.

Once the soldier was secure, they were tapped on the shoulders, whereupon they began shuffling back towards the defensive line slowly, careful to keep their backs towards their comrades.

The marine that was hefting the man didn't stop, bringing him into the building.

Behind him, C-14 rifles began opening fire. He looked back just in time to see another Pirate horde of Marauders, Marines and medics come barreling down the road.

"INCOMING!" He roared, putting the man down gingerly before running back out to the line, guns firing.

It was brutal.

For the first time, the effects of their new rounds could be seen en-masse, and the only word that could describe the carnage was bloody.

At first, it started out with only six marines, and then seven, then nine, then all twelve as Raynor joined the lines, guns blazing as fast as their guns would allow.

The new rounds worked exactly like they were supposed to – penetrate armor and then explode inside, dealing maximum damage. Against the standard CMC armor line which already had poor performance against the C-14's standard round, against Swann's new creation they were little better than gigantic, powered coffins. Armor fragments were blown both forward and back as the rounds exploded inside the armor, rupturing it from inside. The sight of their comrades bleeding guts splattered all over their own armor and spilling onto the ground made for a terrifying sight indeed. Those in the front that had tried to retreat were only instead pushed forward by the weight of the horde from behind – and by the time those in the back had seen why those in the front saw fit to run, it was too late for them.

The approach was bloody, littered with corpses and half-functioning armor suits, most of which had blown out chestpieces.

Raynor cracked his neck as his second in command walked up to him.

"Dropship's here." He growled.

Raynor scoffed. "Screw the dropship. We're kicking in the front door. Have that thing recon the camp." He turned to the Captain. "You said that the perimeter's guarded by Vultures?"

The Captain nodded. "Yeah. Six of them, why?"

"I used to drive one of them. Marines, on me!" He ordered, vaulting over the defensive line.

* * *

[Z1]Part Two Prologue


	3. Prologue: Part Three

A/N: First, I'd like to thank all of you who have read, commented, followed, or added this story to your favorites list. Sorry for the long wait - but real life takes precedence over this for the time being. Enjoy.

The fight (if it could be called that) was short, brutal and over in five minutes. Raynor and his men first disabled the Vultures by taking out their pilots.

Since the outer perimeter was a fair distance away from the actual base, they didn't have to worry about being seen – the pirates had placed too much faith on their numbers and the Spider mine fields which they deactivated and reprogrammed.

Raynor also salvaged the 25mm fragmentation grenade launchers off the bikes – increasing his squad's firepower significantly. All that was left from here on out was to breach the base and wreck havoc. From the intelligence the dropship overhead had transmitted, they were understrength and were preparing a last stand.

They took two of the (weaponless) Vultures and drove each one into the Bunker guarding the main approach, forcing their garrisons out into the open as they slowly burned down where Raynor and his men blew them apart with the Vulture grenade launchers.

They kept one Vulture out of fire, intent on handing it to Swann so they could either make more or find some way to make it better. The other three, they crashed into the living quarters, followed by Raynor's men storming the compound.

The pirate captain was tricky to kill having somehow customized his Marine armor with Reaper capabilities, allowing him to jump from cover to cover. Despite this, he was unable to land anything other than grazes on Raynor's people – and was eventually grounded by a frag grenade that exploded in air, sending shrapnel into the back of his armor, shutting him down quickly.

Raynor grinned as he surveyed the area, where planetary forces were taking over the base and scavenging whatever they could find from it. With the pirates gone, they'd have to rebuild their space defense platforms.

"Well, that went better than I thought." Raynor said, walking out of the pirate Command Center. There was some data there they could use – Vulture schematics, personal logs of planets they'd been to, a map to their space base and the locations of a few supply caches in the system just for starters.

"Considering you took out an entire base with twelve marines, I'd say you did excellent." The Captain remarked as they walked around the center area of the base. Marines were busy putting out fires and pulling corpses and survivors from the wreckage while Meinhoff's medics tended to the wounded.

Raynor shrugged. "I'm just glad these scum have been dealt with."

"Commander! Over here!" One of his marines radioed over the comm. "You'd better take a look at this."

"Roger. On the way." Raynor replied. "Come on, it's this way." He said, following the nav marker the marine had set.

It was a short walk from the base through a relatively small and hidden dirt path – and at the end of it were slave pens full of women. Most of them were wearing the remnants of whatever clothing they had worn before they were brought here, and some of them were completely nude. All showed signs of physical abuse.

"Thought I'd check out where that road went, Commander." The marine reported.

"Good thing you did." Raynor said darkly. "Horner, you there?"

_"Reading you five by five, Commander. I'm already routing three dropships your way with medical supplies and medical personnel – ETA 5 minutes. Should I take the ship into the stratosphere?"_

"Do it. I get the feeling we'll be here a while." Raynor ordered. Horner nodded.

"Let's get these women cared for." Raynor said, walking over to one of the cages. "Back away from the door." He said gently to the women in the cage. They nodded, backing away wordlessly from the big hulking grey giant.

Meanwhile...onboard the _Hyperion_...

Horner nodded, closing the channel.

"Officer of the Deck, rig for non-combative atmospheric entry." Horner ordered.

"Rig for "En-Kay (NCAE)" Aye, sir! All hands, this is the Bridge – prepare for En-Kay! Repeat, prepare for En-Kay!" The OOD echoed, walking over to a panel, where he sounded three klaxon bursts shipwide.

The bridge crew flew into action.

"Disciple Lead, this is _Hyperion._ Come on home. Repeat – come on home."

"Engineering reports ablative system functioning at 100%."

"Exterior maintenance crews have been recalled."

"Yamato cannon containment safety engaged."

The OOD kept his eyes on another panel which displayed a cross-section of the ship, which was divided into sections. Most of the centerline sections had green-lighted as they didn't have to worry about pulling in outside crews or ensuring all cargo was locked down.

"Alert medical to prepare three dropships to go planetside. They're treating the pirates' former slaves."

"Aye, sir." He replied, relaying the orders.

Fifteen sections later, his board was green.

"Ship ready for En-Kay, Captain." He said, turning to Horner. He pulled out a small pocketwatch. "Helm?"

"Course laid in."

He watched the second hand tick.

"Engage." He ordered.

The ship's braking thrusters began to fire as it angled towards the planet.

"Hitting atmosphere in 3...2...1...mark." The OOD reported dutifully.

'Into the breach...' thought Horner.

The ship began to vibrate slightly as it hit descended towards the planet, riding on a firestorm.

**Three hours later...**

Darkness had fallen, the camp still illuminated by the overhead lights of the _Hyperion_. It had been emptied out of resources, supplies, and people – save for Raynor, his men and the pirate captain, who was stubbornly quiet.

"What do you want to do with this guy?" Someone asked.

Raynor eyed him, smiling arrogantly.

"Nothing you can do." He sneered. "You goodie two-shoes types don't got the guts. My people will come for me."

"The only thing your people are going to find is a crater." Raynor said darkly, slamming a fist into the man's face.

His head was knocked back, the force of the punch knocking him flat on his back. Raynor then picked him up and threw him into one of the cages, slamming into the bars before finally thumping into the cold, hard floor of the cell.

A loud clattering followed soon after. He shook his head, vision finally clearing – and laughed.

"A knife? You're giving me a knife?" He scoffed.

"No, I'm giving you three choices. You can kill yourself with that, with starvation – or the Spider Mines we planted around that cage. Move out." He ordered.

They turned around in unison and started heading back up the road. Not until halfway up the road did they hear the loud explosion behind them.

They boarded the last dropship out of there back up to the Hyperion.

"Welcome back, sir." The pilot greeted, shutting the rear ramp.

The next day...

If it was possible, the planetary HQ was busier than it was when it was dealing with the pirates yesterday. It was understandable – since they had no space defenses anymore and nothing to protect them but volunteer militias and only a handful of trained combat personnel.

For the time being, Raynor and his people would be sticking around to lend aid and help them train up another defense force.

While he was busy coordinating things with the Planetary Overseer, Swann, along with some of the crew were on shore leave – though Swann mostly wanted to see if he could find some of his old mining buddies and see if the mining guilds came up with anything new metallurgically, whether it be refinement or a new alloy.

Horner had kept the Hyperion parked in the stratosphere, but was helping Meinhoff ferry their engineers and SCVs into orbit so they could rebuild their space platforms – as well as teams to see if anything could be salvaged from the now dead pirate fleet.

In short, it was a strategic nightmare.

While the cities on Meinhoff didn't span the entire planet, it was still going to be difficult getting it up and running again, defensively. And what the pirates lacked on the ground, they had in abundance in space – not that it was a match for a Behemoth-class battlecruiser. Most planetary defense forces weren't equipped to deal with heavy hitters like that of the pirate fleet – and were designed essentially as a delaying force for a much bigger force from whatever faction they belonged to.

Unfortunately, the Kel-Morian Combine wasn't particularly strong these days due largely to its still increasing size and inability to defend itself from the Dominion – and with salvage operations proceeding on Mar Sara and Chau Sara, it couldn't spare a fleet big enough to break the attack.

So, the Kel-Morian Combine made an executive decision, and opted not to send a fleet back since they reasoned if they couldn't send enough back to break the attack, they shouldn't send any at all.

And while Raynor had no issues with the KMC, since they too were anti-Dominion, he could help but feel as if the KMC were expanding for the sole sake of competing with the Dominion – a decision which would end horribly when the Dominion finally did come knocking and destroyed what little military power the KMC had.

Many of the colonists felt the same, although they dared not speak for fear of the Overseer. That tension quickly went away however, when they witnessed him raging about the inadequacies of the KMC.

"Sufficient defense my ass." He sneered, throwing a glass at the neo-steel wall. "We went out the call at least a week ago, and they still haven't shown or called. Brilliant plan that was."

"I take it you don't approve." Raynor said dryly.

"Of course I don't approve. We've overextended. Our fleets are busy with salvage operations and what little they allocated as a response force isn't enough to defend the whole system, let alone a planet." He scoffed.

Raynor grimaced. "They probably decided it wasn't worth the risk to their military forces." He summed up. "Is it always like this?"

The man scoffed. "It's been heading towards this, I can tell you that much." He grimaced. "What the hell am I going to tell the populace?"

Raynor shrugged. "I don't know – but from what I've been hearing, a lot of people don't think the KMC's gonna do much good to them anymore as long as they can't be sure the KMC won't leave 'em out to dry."

"Trying to make an argument for your faction, Raynor?" The Overseer asked impassively.

Raynor scoffed. "Please. With me and what fleet? All I got is the _Hyperion_ – and we are nowhere near being able to defend _ourselves_ against the Dominion, never mind a planet."

The overseer sighed. "That would be a bit easy. *Sighs* Alright. Why don't you head on into town and relax a little? We're pretty much done for the day."

Raynor nodded. "See you around."

On his way out, he passed by the medical ward – where the sniper from before was finally back on his feet.

"So, you're finally up and about." Raynor commented.

"Oxide-Two Zero" simply nodded. "Occupational hazard. Name's Pierce. I understand I have your men to thank."

Raynor shrugged. "We happened to be in the neighborhood. Heard you did a number on 'em by yourself, though."

"It was easy. They funneled themselves up that hill and made it really easy to kill them. Would've lasted longer if my ammo supply didn't give out." Pierce said sourly.

"Yeah...about that – where'd you get your hands on a Mk VI C-10?" Raynor asked curiously.

"Don't remember." He said slowly, shaking his head. "The only thing I can remember is being told they found me among a pile of bodies and I wouldn't let go of the rifle. They think I must've picked it up off a dead Ghost or something."

Raynor whistled. "Damn. I know Ghosts – they're not easy to deal with."

"I never said I killed them." He shrugged. "But since then, that rifle and I've been through a lot." He said. "Killed a lot of people. Mostly scum like those pirates."

"How'd you wind up on Meinhoff, then?"

"Hitched a ride on a transport. I worked as a merc for a time until the pirates attacked."

"You gonna hang around?"Raynor asked.

Pierce shook his head. "Nah. It's time I move on. I don't suppose you're hiring.

Raynor eyed him suspiciously. "You do know that if you join me, you'll probably be fighting against the Dominion."

"Good.


End file.
